No Competition
by Unknown lazy ass
Summary: You never had a chance, you knew it too. Yet, somewhere along the innocent smiles and alluring eyes, you helplessly and hopelessly fell for her. "Sometimes the people you love are never the people you expect, but in the end they matter more."


**No competition**

Disclaimer: Glee and actors/actresses are not owned by me. If it were, well, things would've made better sense.

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You never had her, even from the start. Though to be fair, you are certain that at some point in time she had honestly liked you, maybe still does, just not in the way that matters. Brittany wasn't ever _in_love with you. You should've known better, you should've seen it a mile away; you are a genius after all. It sure isn't rocket science to figure out just how Brittany loves Santana, even at the early onset of childhood; you did attend the same elementary school as them after all.

A lot of people were confused, and in some ways you were too. After all, you were polar opposites from each other, like the electrons traveling around the atom's nucleus; you weren't ever supposed to actually collide with one another. But Brittany never did listen very well to instructions, and she wasn't much for following social conventions or logics. Then again, it was something much simpler and obvious than what most people believe. You remember the reason. You remember exactly why you fell for her and why she even bothered to look at you twice: once upon a time you both, above all else, loved dancing.

It all started by the boot racks, when you dropped one of your winter boots on the floor. Just the year before you could've picked up the boot yourself, now you could only stare at it dejectedly from the confines of your wheelchair. A soft, cheery 'Ahem' broke your stare, when you looked up your heart did a little leap. There, before you stood little Brittany S. Pierce, decked out in a pink wool sweater and a long fluffy scarlet scarf, you couldn't help but blush. In her usual friendly voice she asked, "Did you drop your boot?"

The mention of the said boot quickly derails your train of thoughts about warm summer showers of never-ending sun and deep vast ocean gulfs. Shifting your eyes back onto to the source of annoyance you breathe out a meek 'yeah'. If it wasn't bad enough you were physically crippled, around Brittany you felt just as mentally inapt.

Brittany frowned before grabbing the stray boot with superman graphics on them. "Here," she started, "I think you need both to go outside...at least I'm pretty sure. My mom always gets mad at me whenever I only wear one sock so..." her voice trails off as her blue eyes shifted away from you; they focus on a grumpy-faced Santana Lopez. Even at eight years old the little Latina was a formidable enemy, having the reputation of being from Lima Heights Adjacent (where ever that it). So when her brown eyes hastily darken as they pierce into yours, you swear you felt fear pool to the numb ends of your toes, regardless of severed circuits and broken ligaments.

In a sharp voice Santana demanded, "What are you doing with Brit, Cy-bore?"

You flinch at the harsh tone, like her words physically tore at your skin. In a timid voice you murmur whilst looking down at your boot, "Nothing."

"I bet, whatever, let's leave the cripple to do nothing by himself Britt," Santana dismissed and outstretched her pinkie for Brittany to take, as if she knew Brittany would come.

A small waver of uncertainty flickered through her blue eyes, however like lightening it disappeared in a flash. Passing one last apologetic glance your way she bounced towards Santana, smiling. For a moment, maybe it was just a split second Brittany contemplated choosing you over Santana.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you gripped the winter boots tightly to your chest.

Even at age 8, you were dreaming about impossibilities.

"Hey I overheard Emma say you like dancing," it's a chilly November afternoon when Brittany has to wait by the same bus stop as you. She dressed in a spring coat splattered with polka dots and rainbow rims, her hair faithfully tailing the back of her head; she looks adorable, even with duck prints all over her yellow sneakers.

Her voice startles you momentarily, it's not often people talk to you -they're either too afraid to say something wrong or have said too many wrong things and had been warned to stay away. Meekly you nod in acknowledgement; almost afraid to move too suddenly, afraid that the movement might scare her off.

"Cool, I love dancing too-" Her eyes twinkle with excitement while her lips naturally curl into a broad smile.

"I know," you blurt out accidentally. Your face mirrors her look of shock before you look away in embarrassment. When you turn back to sneak a peek, Brittany offers a tentative smile.

"I guess already everyone does, I talk about it enough...sorry if I'm bugging you-"

You cut in, because Brittany is perfect and she shouldn't have to apologize, especially for your own creepiness. "No, you aren't bothering me...I...I've seen you dance, that's how I know, I saw you in the nutcracker," your hands fidget and your tongue stumbles, like it's swollen, to get the words out. You've never been so clumsy before, and the fact that it's in front of Brittany Pierce kills you.

Thankfully Brittany doesn't notice your flaming red cheeks and beams, "Oh! You mean the play I did last winter?" You confirm with a slight nod again. "I was the sugar plum fairy -oh, I guess you already knew that though," her laughter sing like wind-chimes, making your whole body hum with warmth. "It was so fun, we got to eat pizza backstage for dinner and Santana even bought me a banquet of roses opening night."

Your face turns sour at the mention of the bossy brunette, but you merely quip back, "You mean a bouquet of roses."

The light of absolute joy dims as she registers your correction; suddenly only a shadow of the girl you saw before stands beside you now. "Yeah...I meant that to say that, sorry, I'm stupid with words."

Her confession stuns you, not because it's completely false, but because of how she said it. Like she really believed she was stupid. In a voice thick with regret you start, "I-"

Your words become lost to the wind as the bus's roaring engine drowns them out. When it comes to a complete halt Brittany pauses by the door wearing an expecting look over her face, encouraging you to finish what you began to say.

You fake a smile before saying, "I'll talk to you later I guess."

Trances of disappointment brush along her features before they ebb away with a nod from her head. In a cheery voice she says goodbye and turns away from you. You watch as she climbs up the stairs and disappear into the bus, leaving you by the curb, alone.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid…_ you repeat it in your head, chanting it to yourself in bitterness and anger. _Was there a gene in boys that made them naturally nasty towards girls at this age?_ Letting the shame wash over you, you blankly stare out across the road, dully focusing on a yellow and blue fire hydrate.

As you sit there waiting, you can't help but feel like you're the real idiot.

The first time you see Santana outside of school is at church.

You don't know why you bother attending masses anymore. It's been three years since the accident and Jesus still hasn't descended from the gates of heaven and miraculously healed your legs or anything like that. The bible was a lie, or at least as far as evidence went to show, it was.

God never said anything back to you, even when you prayed for hours, with tears stinging your eyes and arms fallen asleep due to being held together in a prayer.

Religion is a scam, you think silently in bitterness, just after the thought passes Santana comes out in a powder white summer dress. She walks down the aisle with a nicely dressed women and a man fitted in a formal black suit. Her hand is tightly wound around an elderly woman's hand, but even with wrinkles and spots of grey showing in her hair, the woman was groomed to rival the queen. Swiftly you dart your gaze away, scared at the possibility of Santana catching you gawking at her and, what you presume to be, her family.

When mass begins and the priest's heavy voice drones across the room, all you can think about is Santana's open smiles and soft eyes: an expression that was never meant to be seen by you. If you hadn't bared witness to it with your own eyes just moments ago you would have never believed that Santana Lopez could smile so warmly, let alone emit such honest adoration for another being.

The next day at school, you notice for the first time how Santana is just as open and loving as she was during mass yesterday as she is towards Brittany every day. Suddenly, the puppy-dog eyes and persistent smiles that Brittany always offered Santana, all made sense. It was never just a one-sided affair, Brittany owned just as much of Santana as Santana owned of Brittany.

Grade six taught you more than just fractions and constellations, at the early age of eleven you were already empathic towards the pain associated with unrequited love. If you really were as smart as your teachers said you were, you would've given up on Brittany then and forgot all about pretty blue eyes and locks of gold-like hair. Unfortunately, your feelings for the Brittany were like a well that never dried nor ended.

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Author's note: I really, really hated 'Bartie', or whatever the monstrosity it was called. So I figured the best way to overcome my dislike, was to face it. Then somewhere along my bashing, I remembered Artie saying he wants to dance or something like that. And then, boom! Epiphany moment. The only common ground that have, and from that seed grew this…this thing xP. I actually have most of it figured out and a lot of it pre-written so I'm happy to embark on this new fandom/story. Please drop a review and leave me some feedback, it makes the little spawns of the devil, on my shoulders, happy.

P.s: this has been un-beta'd


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